Book Quest: Prologue
NCC Dungeon The blues and violets that blanket the city darken here, edging into midnight blue and indigo. The suffusing, scintillating light dims, and only scraps and snatches of illumination are available, hinting at forms rather than revealing the truth of structure. Will-o-the-wisp lights flicker in and out, suggesting sparking wires or perhaps the sinister optics of the security cameras. When activated, the translucent turquoise force fields cast more light than anything else. The long shadow-silhouettes of bars fashioned like rib cages are cast on the ground. The filigreed manacles are deceptively slender, but pound for pound, their grasp is far stronger than spider-silk, nigh unbreakable. From the ceiling hang the various tools of torture, perhaps the teeth of an iron maiden here and the cage of a gibbet there. Contents: Mesa Obvious exits: South leads to NCC Arena. Southeast leads to Mount R'lyeh. Decepticon Message: 2/85 Posted Author Address Thu Jul 03 Galvatron ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Screens all over the Decepticon Empire flicker and retune into the image of Galvatron's face. The camera pans out slowly, showing the damaged but now repaired Warlord sitting on a large throne in an unknown setting, a sneer etched across his face. He bunches one fist and slowly raises it. "Decepticons. The rumours are true. I HAVE returned. I have returned to an Empire in strife, riddled with mewling cowards, run by imposters and weak. And I ABHOR weakness!" He smashes his fist down onto the arm of his throne "I expect there to be questions. And as always, I am Galvatron. I AM the answer. Either by traitorous design or foolish accident, the damnable Constructicons locked my humanized form away in stasis, trapped in the body of a foul human. But their plan failed. For at the moment you were transferred back to your forms, my body was also returned to me. Broken. Scarred. Injured at the hands of these so-called Azreal. I survived, I crawled out of the pit by sheer will-power alone, until I could restore myself with the aid of LOYAL subjects." His gaze darkens. "And as to the whining, the whinnying, the scurrying over the destruction of the Spaceport. I expected it. I saw the weakness that this 'Megatron' had wrought, and I exposed it for what it was. I exposed YOUR weakness. For the Empire to survive, there must be no weakness, no regret, no mercy. Only the strong will survive, and through strife, we become STRONGER. Energon can be taken, ships can be built, but an Empire such as ours... that is something that is unique!" His face turns from a smile into a sneer, and the camera pans out again. Stacked around his throne and guarded by Cyclonus, some Deluxe Insecticons and gumby Seeker guards is a veritable mountain of energon (where did THAT come from). "But of course, those loyal to their true master will ALWAYS be taken care of." Video footage of yesterday's battle at NCC fills the screen, showing Galvatron turning from Megatron, to shoot down Rodimus with one cannon shot. Galvatron's voice grates over the top. "Do not listen to his lies. This creature calling himself Megatron does not care about the Empire. He would have the Autobots run roughshod over you. And ask yourself this: *I* am Galvatron. So who... or WHAT, is HE?" The screen blinks off, replaced by the legend "STRENGTH THROUGH TYRANNY - PLEDGE ALLEGIANCE" Decepticon Message: 2/86 Posted Author Re: Address Thu Jul 03 Scrapper ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ *** TEXT ONLY *** As for whether this new Galvatron is the original, speaking purely from a scientific point of view, Megatron /is/ the being that is/was our leader. I'm not a spiritual mech and so I cannot comment on whether a mech's soul/spark/consciousness/whatever is passed through when we move brainwaves from one body to another, but as far as science is concerned, Megatron is the original. I don't know where the new Galvatron came from, though I'm willing to look over any scientific evidence he wishes to provide. Galvatron, if you get ahold of this message, please send us your evidence in a manner that doesn't involve destroying Decepticon assets. Thank you kindly, - Scrapper Decepticon Message: 2/87 Posted Author All Hail Galvatron! Thu Jul 03 Sagittarion ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Begin Transmission. The lavender SAGITTARION appears on screen. Behind him are eleven more, similarly colored Decepticon seekers. Their only difference, much like their leader, are their helmets. Some have helmets with animal features. Others, like the arrow-shaped rocket mounted to Sagittarion's head, are objects. "This is Sagittarion, Lead Wing of Zodiac Wing! We make it known that we throw in our support for Lord Galvatron -- the TRUE Emperor of Destruction! So say one of us.." "SO SAY WE ALL!" All Decepticons cheer in unison. Blip! The song of a rather dispondent Terran named Wesley Willis sings a rather odd tune about a fellow 'Doing Time in Jail'. The song seems rather appropriate for the moment, even if it is a bit... odd. Mesa relaxes on his metal bed bobbing his head. Catechism stalks into the dungeon, every piston taut and tense. Her red optics, if at all possible, look a bit bleary. There is the smoke and singe marks of battle clinging of her frame, but she shows no injuries - they are simply leftovers from the other day. The Seeker hasn't had a solvent shower yet. She seems tired and restless. Catechism did not rest peacefully in her cozy bunk. Instead, she holed up in a supply closet, confused and questioning. She returns to where she left now, searching for answers. A tired smile graces her face, and she greets curtly, "Mesa." Mesa gets up off the bed, now that he has another leg to stand on. However, he is very much unpainted in areas that were replaced. It doesn't seem to bother Mesa in the slightest though. He stands firm and offers Catechism a salute, even though he is a higher rank than that of the Seeker. But it's more a show of respect than protocol. "Greetings Catechism. To what do I owe this honour?" Mesa goes to the at ease position. Ever proper. Catechism meets Mesa's salute with one of her own. She frowns slightly. Shockwave assigned her to watch over Mesa. Soundwave told her not to interrogate him without DCI personnel on hand to supervise. She shrugs and says, "I'm just here. Wanted to make sure you were still alive." Reflector has arrived. Mesa simply states, "If you have questions for me, I will answer them with the same restrictions as before. Thank you for getting me a Medic, I was in a bit of dire straights there apparently. They even cleaned up this cell after Soundwave left. Seems unusually odd considering my situation, but I do not question things. Which is why I am in this situation I guess." Mesa laughs at the last part. Still standing ever proper in the at ease position, "So, my dear, what is on /your/ mind?" Mesa's personality seems to have changed a little bit from yesterday. He seems... more confident? More... something.... Americon says, "Hello, fellow Decepticons! I still do not know what to think about all of this! If only Soundwave was here to do my thinking for me! He is much better at it!" Grey Snapper, Fusillade says, "Scrapper did a pretty good job summing up my thoughts on the matter." Catechism is a bit blackened and bleary, but she is uninjured. She stands in front of Mesa's cell, and she points out, "I can't interrogate you - not right now, anyway. So any of this is just idle chatter." She moves over to the dungeon control panel. Ah, the cameras and the audio recording devices? Surely, they do not need those on right now. She returns to standing in front of Mesa's cell and pats the top of her cone, answering wryly, "My cone is what's above my mind. What's on it, however... Soundwave planned this all along? Really?" She shakes her head. Mesa smiles. "All I know is that we are two bots shootin the breeze. Nothin wrong with that right?" Mesa focuses his mono-optic a bit, "As for Soundwave, I do not know what my superiors have planned or don't. If I am given an order, I simply follow it. Or, that's how it's always worked in the past..." Mesa frowns for a moment then continues, "Leaders like good soldiers that don't question orders. It is why I am here, I don't question anything. I never have. I do not regret my decisions either." Mesa takes a long hard look at his surroundings then at Catechism. Americon arrives from the south as the triangular doors, evoking the kraken's beak, open wide and clamp shut tightly behind him. Americon has arrived. Catechism gives a sharp nod of her head, almost avian. She considers her hand and adds, "And I don't suppose you'll say who was giving the orders. Hmm. How about... when were these orders given? I do know that Cyclonus served as human Galvatron's transport for a while, so this doesn't go back too far." There is a twinkle of... something to her optics, behind the bleariness now. She has led. She has been a commander of men. It made her think, and she's found that she can't quite quit the habit, even fallen as she is. For Americon's benefit, she's a tired, dirty-looking Seeker standing on front of Mesa's cell. Decepticon Message: 2/28 Posted Author Inter-Office Memo Thu May 29 Geist ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ One good thing about losing our pet human, at least we won't need to bring in any more peanut butter. That stuff was going right to Sunder's hips. Send this to 5 of your friends and have them each send it to 5 of their friends and so on or else bad luck will befall you. Decepticon Message: 2/88 Posted Author SUPPORT MEGATRON Thu Jul 03 Rampart ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The screen flashes to the interior of NCC Medical Ward. There sit a group of rusty, pitted Decepticons. Their leader is a Decepticon possessing the large, propeller-studded wings of a B-17 Flying Fortress, mottled armor-plating, and a beard "Urrr..." He stutters to life, "..Rampart, Lead Wing of the Veterans' Wing, reporting! We declare our support for MEGATRON for he was part of the Greatest Generation! We also denounce Warmonger for siding with that upstart Galvatron!" Suddenly, behind Rampart, another rusty Decepticon suddenly whines. "UNH! Rampart! My servos are too tight! Pass the lubricant!" Rampart turns to wheeze at the other Decepticon, "Not now, Corsair!" Just as Rampart reaches for the END button, there is a loud CRASH behind him. Behind both Rampart and Corsair is a Decepticon with wheels joined to his hip and the wings of a P-40 on the floor. "Rampart! Help, help! I've fallen and I can't get up!" "Oh dear, Warhawk. Oh dear..." D-56 Ramjet is heard groaning in disgust. "Get crippled in some ages-old border dispute and you want everything in the Empire handed to you on a silver plate. Lousy, good for nothin' rust buckets.." There's a sliding, scraping noise coming from behind Catechism. Its source? Americon, dragging along a large bench that's attached to him by a chain around his waist. In his arms is a bag that makes watery, splashing sounds, although it doesn't seem to be dripping or anything. Geist says, "Live fast, die young, leave a bloody swath of carnage, eh Ramjet?" Mesa frowns at Catechism. "You look very tired Catechism. Perhaps you should get some rest for a few megacycles?" Mesa notices the approaching Americon as his cell is right by the door. "Seems I am the life of the party all of the sudden." Mesa continues, "As to your earlier question, I can't pinpoint a date cept maybe two weeks ago, I think? I wasn't paying attention to the time. Didn't know I would need to know ya know?" Mesa smiles at his last statement. "As for anything else, I am remaining tight lipped so to speak. I /am/ interested in speaking with Megatron when he reactivates. I am sure he will want to see me. It will be an interesting encounter for sure." Mesa looks as if he is lost in thought. The blank look on his face is hard to read. D-56 Ramjet says, "Never change your function to Philosophicon, Sweep. Ever." Geist says, "Running your melee mouth cannot mask your fear." D-56 Ramjet says, "My.. what?" Catechism says quietly, "Sleep is for the dead," and she lives, so she does not sleep. Catechism looks over at Americon, and she actually does have a clue what he's planning - waterboarding. It's nothing she's done, but she had to learn the theory in her training. Of course, it's a little more effective if the victim needs to breathe. She suggests, "Convince Megatron of your worth, and you may live." Aw, who is she kidding? Megatron let Starscream live. Mesa will probably get a gold star. She moves over to the cassette and inquires, "Need some help with that... Americon, isn't it?" Americon says, "He's accusing you of being un-American!" <:D Catechism says, "Ramjet is totally American. Thrust, Ramjet, and Dirge make red, white, and blue!" Americon says, "Hey, that's right! And a bunch of other, unnecessary colors!" Americon grunts, straining visibly. "Ah... no, no, I think I got it... hrrrnnnghhh! I would've... gotten the smaller bench... but... unnnfff... Mesa wouldn't... fit on it! Hrrrrrghh!" He gasps as he finally brings the bench to a spot close to Mesa's cage, and, apparently deciding this is close enough, lets go of the chain with an exhausted sigh. "Man! I wish I was stronger! And maybe bigger! Well. Anyway. Time to torture the prisoner! And believe me, this is the most horrific torture EVER DEVISED!" Americon squints up at Catechism. "Oh, yeah, I'm Americon, because I am very American. I have no idea who you are, however!" Mesa speaks up but he pauses giving Americon a spanky style double-take. Then he looks back up at Catechism. "And what worth do you propose I have? I do not see any worth in me. There are far better soldiers than I. And certainly ones that are far more loyal." Mesa shrugs. "If I manage to live past--" Mesa is cut off by Americon. "Torture eh? Why not use the tools that are already availible here? Meh.." Mesa waves a hand dismissively in Americons direction and then goes back to the at ease position. Mesa seems to have forgotten that he was in mid sentence. Ramjet arrives from Mount R'lyeh via the heavy, creaking doors to the southeast. Ramjet has arrived. Americon has dragged a bench near Mesa's cell, and appears to be carrying a bag full of something that's making sloshing sounds. Catechism lets half her face pull up in a lopsided smile and introduces, "I'm Catechism. My alternate mode is a F-35B. It's an American design," with a whole bunch of other countries involved, too, but that's not really important right now! She's trying to make friends and totally failing to influence people. She crouches down and offers her hand out to Americon to shake. Catechism winks over at Mesa, as if to say, 'It's just water, chopper-boy.' Verbally, she replies, sounding amused, "Well, you sabotaged our energon stores. Do that the Autobots, and I'd call you useful." The triangular doors snap open once again, and Reflector steps through them. He surveys the situation - cassette, Catechism, helicopter prisoner - then one component walks over to the control console for the dungeons. He glances at that, while the other two remain near the doorway. "You turned off the cameras." Americon, who is very easily influenced, grins as he grabs a finger and shakes it. "Nice to meet you, fellow American!" Behind the components of Reflector follows Ramjet. Less interested in having to interact with Mesa and far more interested in seeing him squirm, the stout Decepticon takes a place beside Catechism. Arms folded, he casts a glance askew from Catechism while asking lamely, "So. Interrogate here often?" Americon then adds, "Well, this bench was actually already inside the room, Mr. Mesa! But it was next to a bunch of useless radial saws and shock prods. What I got here is way more effective!" He makes an attempt at laughing evilly while he shakes the bag full of some sort of liquid. Reflector stands at the control panel with all of its blinky lights, dials, switches, and stuff. He's not actually touching anything. He also stands by the doors of the dungeon. Because he's awesome like that. Catechism shrugs innocently to Reflector and greets, "Reflector. Haven't seen you in a while, but I guess if I were seeing you, you wouldn't be doing your job very well. Where do you stand?" She won't trust his answer, but she has to ask. Straightens up from her crouch and replies to Americon, "Nice to meet you, too." Besieged by the dungeon party, she then turns to Ramjet, rubs the back of her cone, and answers, "Uh, not often, really. Mesa was the only one I was ever allowed to interrogate, but those privileges have been revoked unless there's a DCI..." ...she looks at Americon. She looks at Reflector. She *cackles.* Scavenger arrives from Mount R'lyeh via the heavy, creaking doors to the southeast. Scavenger has arrived. Oddly enough, Mesa salutes Ramjet too. Again he doesn't need too as Ramjet is a lower rank but it's a respect thing. However, the appearance of Reflector does get Mesa's mind working. What the heck is all this stuff about. Mesa assumes the worst. "So.. I am assuming that there is some pain to be had on my end?" Mesa states flatly. "Where do I stand?" Reflector echoes. "Oh, over my feet under most circumstances. Not barring that time on Validaron..." His optics brighten as Catechism cackles, and the one of him nearest Mesa's cell gives the helicopter a Look when it's suggested there is pain to be had by Mesa. Fliers, his expression suggests, are very, very strange. Meanwhile, the one of him at the control console begins tapping commands on the computer. Scavenger heads downstairs to check on the prisoner. He knows what it's like to feel lonely. But then, he sees the prisoner has company. He backs off a bit, simply watching. Americon grins smugly. "Indeed there will be! Pain beyond your wildest imagining! And fear! Lots of it! And, uh, suffering! A dash of suffering, to complete your HELL pie..." He leans in close to the bars of Mesa's cell. "IN AMERICA." The other Reflector component looks resigned at Americon's proclamation. You can't really expect much from cassettes, can you? Catechism points out to Mesa, "It doesn't have to hurt - and for the record, I didn't summon any of these people here." She rolls her optics at Reflector and mutters, "Hilarious. One of you ought to take up stand-up. Are you with Megatron to Galvatron? The majority of you, anyway." Americon sure is enthusiastic. It's sort of cute, in a demented way. She looks over at Scavenger. Him, too? Mesa's optic flickers as if to blink. "I can imagine quite a bit. So if you intend to torture me, do so and get it over with. If not, then so be it." Mesa states all matter of factly. He doesn't seemed threatened by Americon. But then again, it's Americon. The Constructicon in the back however, that's a different story. Mesa makes no attempt to show that he has noticed the lime green bot in the back. "So... what ended up happening with the Autobots? I was um.. out of it." Mesa asks no one in particular. Scavenger hasn't stated his alliance, he's just sort of lingering. When he sees the others interrogating he murmurs. "Woah. Just wanted to see how the prisoner is. I dont want to interrupt questioning. Maybe I should go..." He looks to the door. Reflector is busy at the computer. Tap-tap-tap at the keys, flick this dial, pull this lever. Is he actually doing anything over there or is he just pushing buttons for the fun of it? "I've always preferred commanders that are highly unlikely to shoot me for disagreeing with their idiocy." "Nnn.." Ramjet murmurs at Mesa. "Not very good at thinking for yourself, are you." His voice never raises at the end of his sentence -- it stays flat and grunted. He isn't asking a question -- just stating fact. His narrow-eyed look turns from Mesa to the side, and down, to Americon. "If you're going to make him scream, Americon, at least make be quick about it. My amusement level is swiftly falling." Americon shakes his head. "Oh, no, Scavenger. I actually might need your help! I mean, you're pretty strong, right, being a Constructicon and all? Yeah, I'll need you to help me secure him to the bench." He scowls over at Ramjet. "Hey, I'm going to! I might need you to help me out, here, too! Uh, Reflector? Could you unlock his cell door for me, so that Mesa can make a mad scramble for the door and we'll all clumsily try to catch him and drag him over to the bench?" Catechism suggests, "You might tend to Megatron, Scavenger. Your eldest, Scrapper, has shown support for Megatron." At Americon's weird little missives, she sidles over to a Reflector, since any will do, and she says quietly, "Lock the doors before you unlock the cell." She's screwed up one too many watches in the dungeon to want a repeat. Scavenger seems excited "Sure, I'll hel.." He pauses. "Two people to help at once!" he looks to his radio. "I gotta go wake up Megatron. Will you be ok without me?" Scavenger has left. Mesa looks right at Ramjet, "It has nothing to do with thinking for ones self Ramjet. It's called following orders. I did so." Mesa stops and listens to Americons request.. "I am not in the position to argue so just tell me where you want me to lay down and I will do so. I do not intend to escape." Mesa says to the cassete. Then Mesa catches the sentence, 'wake up Megatron...' Well thats just prime. "What do you take me for, a fool?" Reflector taps at the console, pulls a lever, twists a dial, pulls another lever that adjusts the lighting to brighter, and then taps one final command on the computer. The bars/forcefield/whatever is actually there on Mesa's cell cease to be a barrier. And the main door of the dungeon is locked. "Following orders? How quaint." Americon says, as Scavenger departs, "Yes! I will be fine! I will destroy him myself if I have to! Bye!" He waves. "Well, ok, then, Mr. Prisoner, if you won't resist that just makes my horrific job easier!" Americon points at the nearby bench. "Now, just lie back on the bench and make yourself comfortable. Then, place your arms under the bench so that I can firmly secure them with zip-ties!" Mesa does as he's commanded to. An energetic hum fills the air -- the point of origin stemming from the slender ebon rifle pointed for Mesa. Such an elegant weapon is affixed to Ramjet's left shoulder and aimed true at Mesa's head. "One wrong move, Mesa, and your cranial circuits end up decorating the wall." Ramjet asserts, providing Americon with an air of safety should Mesa decide to get jumpy. Mesa smiles as his hands are being bound. "Let's not lie Ramjet, you want to do that regardless. The cameras are off and no one would miss me so why not?" States Mesa, seemingly goading the seeker on. "I am not the Enemy. I am ever a loyal servant to the Empire as I have always been." Mesa doesn't say anything else after that. Ramjet snorts. "Your passive-aggressive attitude is making me slide in that direction." Americon ducks under the bench, and, a few "zipping" noises later, Mesa's arms are secured under the bench with indestructible, er, plastic. Then, the patriotic Decepticon opens his bag and reveals a large rag of some kind and numerous canteens. Next, Americon stands on Mesa's chest, and places the rag on his face. He glances at Catechism and Ramjet. "Uh, he might struggle a bit once he realizes what horrible torment he is in! Maybe one of the Reflector guys could help, too." "No, no, much too busy. Walls don't hold themselves up." Reflector smiles a bit, optics a bit brighter than normal as he records everything. Catechism backs up and leans against a wall to watch. This is a bit crowded for her. "Don't worry," Ramjet tells Americon. "He flips out, he gets shot. Just, uh, make sure he doesn't thrash around and somehow pull you in front of him. I'm a good shot -- just not on the level of that Autobitch, Whiz." He doesn't seem terribly concerned when he warns Americon of how he could miss. In fact, he's got a slip of amusement on wondering if he can get away with Americon's termination as an 'accident.' Ramjet looks innocent. Well, attempts to. Reflector pauses at the console, and one of him touches the locked doors to the dungeon. "A pity," he says quietly. Security measures like isolating the dungeon's systems from most of the rest of NCC can prove so annoying. One of him saunters over to look at Mesa from a position where he can meet the helicopter's optics. Americon nods grimly at Ramjet. "Do not fear! I am very durable, and used to being attacked by my own comrades! I will probably survive your terrible, misdirected wrath! But, uh, yes, I will try not to get hit as you fire upon the inevitably escaping prisoner! Anyway, here goes! Welcome to hell, Mesa! And WATER hell it is, isn't it!?" He cackles evilly as he unscrews a canteen, turns it upside down, and dumps the contents onto the rag on Mesa's face. The sound of James Brown's 'Living in America' begins to play from Mesa. Mesa doesn't seem to be affected initially by the torture. Catechism continues to lean against a wall and folds her arms across her chest. She watches the proceedings and occasionally shakes her head. Maybe they're trying to humiliate Mesa into talking. She kind of doubts that will work. Americon sneers down at Mesa. "Your pitiful attempts at obtaining mercy by playing American music will not avail you! Here is more suffering for you, in STEREO!" He then dumps TWO canteens on Mesa at once. "Are you AFRAID yet, Mesa!? Do you feel the FEAR!? Yes? Then you better talk and tell me everything you know!" Reflector turns and walks away from Mesa and Americon. The one still by the door looks over at the cassette, then turns to look at Catechism. "I presume you wish the door to remain locked for the duration?" Mesa now begins to play 2 Live Crew's Banned in the USA. Mesa still doesn't seem to be affected by the torture. It probably would have a tramatic effect if Mesa breathed or something. Catechism nonchalantly nods to Reflector and agrees breezily, "You presume correctly." She smiles ghoulishly. "After all, the worst that can happen, with the doors locked, is that Mesa kills us all... oh. Reflector, can you suspend Mesa's system access?" Ramjet snorts at Catechism's joke. "Like that'll happen." "... If someone hasn't already done that, someone's head needs to be nailed to the wall." The Reflector component at the control console gets to work, pulling up the necessary logs through a use of legitimate system access, backdoors, and forging Soundwave's virtual signature. "Oh, good, someone has." Americon quirks a brow at Mesa's odd selection. "Banned in the USA!? That makes no sense! Is he referring to himself? Has he banned from America, in his own fractured mind? He must be starting to lose his mind as a result of the torture I have subjected him to! That poor bastard!" Americon looks sad for a moment, before he dumps three canteens on Mesa's face. Mesa now plays 'Glory and Consequence' by Ben Harper... He still doesn't seem to be affected by this. Mesa, if anything seems bored. Very bored. Americon looks quizzically at the non-tortured Decepticons. "It's confirmed! The song he is playing has nothing to do with what I am doing, he's CRRAAAAAZZY!! What have I done!?!" he screams, sounding almost as if he is in tears as he gathers up a large bundle of canteens in his arms and opens them up over Mesa's head. Soon, water and canteens are flying everywhere as Americon continues to wail in guilt. Reflector says, "We could just have Ramjet shoot him." No specifications on which 'him', Reflector means. "I suppose it would annoy Soundwave, but... Soundwave isn't here right now." Catechism looks shifty and static-coughs, covering her mouth with a hand before recrossing her arms. She soothes, "Of course. I was just checking. Does it say if they modelocked him?" She sidles over to look over cumpoter-Reflector's shoulder and generally be nosy. Then, she tries to reassure Americon, "But... Glory and Consequence? He's facing the consequences. Don't fret, Americon." Mesa smiles underneath his rag. He seems to be having fun messing with Americon. Just to mess with him more, the Russian National Anthem plays from Mesa. Ooohhh.. I wonder what that will do to Americon. Americon wails at Catechism. "No, you don't understand! Don't you see how erratic his behavior is? And.. and... now he's playing the Russian national anthem, I think! At least I think it is! All I know is that those damn dirty commies are always up to no good! And yet, you see here, Mesa went from playing AMERICAN music and is now playing the inferior Russian variety of it! That is how crazy he is now, and it's all because of me! Me!" Dumping his last canteen on Mesa, he screams dramatically, "IT IS ALL BECAUSE OF MEEEEE!" Reflector says, "In fact, I suspect Soundwave wouldn't be particularly bothered _at all_ if Ramjet shot him..." Just to make matters worse, Mesa plays 'I'm Afraid of Americans' by David Bowie. Mesa is enjoying every minute of this for sure. Other than the tapping of his foot to the music, he makes no movements. "Modelocked, weapon-locked, the usual." Reflector gestures at the data on the console screen. "I wouldn't have unlocked his cell otherwise." Catechism continues to hover behind computer-Reflector to see what he's doing. She raises a hand to her face and pinches the bridge of her nose. Mesa is clearly toying with Americon. That poor, oblivious, deluded little tape. She swears, Soundwave makes them flawed on purpose, just to torment the rest of the world. She nods sharply to Reflector and sighs with relief, "Good, good. I'd hate for a repeat of... well. Never you mind." Americon throws the canteen aside. "Oh, gosh! Do you see!? Now he is overwhelmed with TERROR! Of me! And look how small I am! His mind is completely gone now! That poor Decepticon, I reduced him to but a mere shadow of his once proud self! And all because he backed the wrong side in a pointless civil war!" He hops off the bench holds his head in his hands in despair. "I... I broke him! I broke him!" The music suddenly stops. Mesa effortlessly breaks the 'restraints', sits up and pulls the rag off of his face. "Ok I am done playing around now. I am gonna go back to my cell if that's ok." But as he turns his head around, he is greeted by Ramjet's blaster. "Um yeah... you can move that out of my face son. I am not gonna do anything. I don't want to anyways." Mesa then looks back at the poor Americon. Catechism smacks her hand into her cone. Dryly, she remarks, "Americon, next time, try to get information out of the prisoner, rather than vaguely topical songs." If Mesa tries anything funny, she has an electric whip with his name on it, but she rather doubts that he will. Mesa seems resigned to his fate. "Son?" Ramjet spits the offensive word back at Mesa. His expression darkens and twists into something sour. Jutting his chin out, he stares at Mesa for several moments. Crimson optics flare hot in the interim. With a shift of his chin and a thought, Ramjet decides. "Yeah. I'll move it out of your 'face.'" He rolls his arm out, turning the rifle away from Mesa and letting his hand splay out. Ebon fingers reach out to grasp Mesa by the collar. Pulling him close, Mesa is given a full appreciation for Ramjet's anger. "HNH." He snorts hotly, venting the heat of his processors all over the Decepticon's face. ".. and if you call me that word ever again, slag-for-brains, I'll rip your frakkin' head module off." Ramjet rolls his optics up and tilts his weighty, dense head back. With another snort, he slams it right for Mesa's forehead to send him hurtling back to his cell. Americon waves a hand at Mesa. "Yes, yes, you can go back to your cell, if you aren't too traumatized by the horrible things I did to you! Oh, geeze..." Looking up at Catechism, he cries, "I tried to get informationg out of him! But I went too far, and I drove him INSANE! Next time I waterboard somebody, I will have to be more careful!" See? Ramjet handled it. Go Ramjet! Catechism briefly grins. Then, she looks over at Americon, steps away from Reflector, and she gestures that Americon ought to come closer. She crouches down. Reflector continues to be quiet and alternately holding up the wall and keeping the control console from falling down. Americon wanders over to Catechism, idly commenting to Ramjet, "You actually hit him!? You amateur!" Mesa flies through the air and abruptly stopped by yet another wall. Mesa is now sitting on the floor and smiling of all things. "My apologies Ramjet." Is all that Mesa utters as he wipes a bit of fluid from his mouth. "A simple, don't call me 'son' would of worked too." Mesa adds finally. Mesa is content to sit on the floor for the time being. Catechism mutters to Americon, "... almost... Mesa... I..." You whisper "I am almost entirely sure that you didn't drive Mesa crazy. I think he was just messing with you." to Americon. Americon's optics widen, and he whispers back, He mutters to Catechism, "... you... all... of..." You sense Americon's optics widen, and he whispers back, "What is this you say!? But he showed all the signs of HYSTERICAL MADNESS!" Ramjet shifts his attention to Americon, whom he stares at with a raised brow-ridge. He snorts as he turns to the diminuitive Decepticon, "You disrespect Ramjet.." He then twists around, swinging an outstretched arm for Mesa. Aligning the mounted rifle with the Decepticon's prone body, he simply clenches his fingers to project his will. Purple laserfire erupts from the slender barrel in Mesa's direction. *pew pew pew!* Ramjet turns his head back and down to snort at Americon again. His arm turns out and his forearm raises, curling at the elbow and capping off in a fist. Wisps of smoke rise from the heated barrel of his weapon. "..and you die like the rest. Savvy, trooper?" Catechism stays down in her crouch but shakes her head. In a good natured-tone, she explains,"... was acting... but I... you... close,... bored,..." Americon senses "Catechism stays down in her crouch but shakes her head. In a good natured-tone, she explains, "Sure, he was acting crazy, but I think it was just acting. If you looked really close, he looked... bored, you know?"" Reflector reactivates the bars/forcefields/kumquats keeping Mesa in his cell and unlocks the main doors of the dungeons. After turning the cameras back on and logging out, he collects himself and makes for the door. "Oh, Catechism, I would like to speak to you. At your leisure." Then Reflector leaves. Mesa just sits there as the shots penetrate his chest area. Smoke rises from the holes that Ramjet just made. "Hnn.. Feel better now?" Mesa says in obvious pain. But to Mesa's credit, he makes no effort to retalliate. He just sits there. Mesa does smile though at Ramjet, even though his face seems to be contorted into pain he does manage a smile, as if to mock Ramjet or to let him know that he simply doesn't care. His mono-optic focuses for a moment. Ramjet smiles thinly at Mesa. "Slightly," he replies with a then-spreading sneer. Americon frowns, scratching his chin as he considers what Catechism said. Then: He mutters to Catechism, "... that... to... is... of... so I do... how..." messing around" with me!" You sense Americon frowns, scratching his chin as he considers what Catechism said. Then: "It did not seem that way to me! Waterboarding is the most horrific of all tortures, so I do not see how he could possibly be "messing around" with me!" D-56 Ramjet says, "Commander Shockwave!" Reflector vanishes out of reality. Reflector has left. Shockwave says, "Yes Ramjet?" D-56 Ramjet says, "We'll need a medical engineer dispatched to the Dungeon. Lieutenant Slag-For-Brains just had an ... hnnh.. 'accident.'" Megatron says, "Which one? I have several officers who match that description." Scavenger says, "Oh. Oh dear! I can head on down.. um.. what happened?" Americon says, "Make sure the medic is also a skilled therapist! This guy was subjected to nightmarish torments beyond your wildest imaginings!" Catechism straightens and looks where Reflector went. He wants to speak to her? Blast. She's in too deep. Catechism debates if she really should break the truth to poor little Americon, but if the kid's going to improve, he needs to know, "... put... doesn't..." Americon senses "Catechism straightens and looks where Reflector went. He wants to speak to her? Blast. She's in too deep. Catechism debates if she really should break the truth to poor little Americon, but if the kid's going to improve, he needs to know, "Americon, how can I put this? Mesa doesn't breathe. Waterboarding just makes him damp."" D-56 Ramjet says, "That rustheap that shot you, Megatron. Lieutenant Menses." D-56 Ramjet says, "Er. Mesa." Geist says, "A replaying of Cylonus' holo-speech?" D-56 Ramjet says, "Whatever." Megatron says, "Ah, yes, I'll want to have words with him. Patch him up for me." Americon turns around, addressing Ramjet. "Hey, I disrespected you, but you shot him! How does that work? Well, if you want to shoot me, too, that's ok." Catechism starts to talk to him, so Americon dutifully listens before he replies, "Oh, I know he doesn't breathe. But I saw all these news articles decrying waterboarding as torture and an abomination to all sentient life, so I KNEW that it was obviously the best torture ever!" D-56 Ramjet says, "I will direct Scavenger to him, my Lord. It is good to hear from you again." <:D Catechism says, "Lord Megatron, at your leisure, I request an audience. I realise that you are busy, and I am of no consequence." Megatron says, "It's good to be up and moving about again." Ramjet snorts at Americon! He is doing that frequently. Maybe in another life, he is a bull. Or a butterfly. A butterfly bull. Bullerfly. Butterbull. Whatever. "Abusing the -tiny- is the work of mechanisms with low self-esteem, twerp." Megatron says, "Catechism, meet me in the dungeon. I want to hear from Mesa first, then we'll have our discussion." Megatron leaves the lab Megatron has arrived. <:D Catechism says, "...ah. Sir. I am in the dungeon presently." Americon says, "I am sorry, my Lord, but the prisoner was subjected to such horrible treatments that you may not get anything coherent out of him!" Scavenger says, "I'll be right down. I gotta fix up Inquisitra first.. then I'll see what you've done...A Constructicon's work is never done." D-56 Ramjet says, "Ugh. Dirge's dreamgirl is back again, Scavenger?" Scavenger says, "You mean Vortex?" Counterpunch arrives from the south as the triangular doors, evoking the kraken's beak, open wide and clamp shut tightly behind it. Counterpunch has arrived. D-56 Ramjet says, "No. Inquisitra." Scavenger says, "Oh! The other one!" Shockwave arrives from Mount R'lyeh via the heavy, creaking doors to the southeast. Shockwave has arrived. Catechism smacks her hand to her cone. Well. Ramjet certainly has a temper, doesn't he? She narrows her optics. They'll never convert Mesa if Ramjet keeps treating him like that. However, megatron will be here soon, so there is little that she can do. She rubs her cone and explains to Americon, "Waterboarding is only horrible to people who breathe, Americon. See, the newspaper people who write those articles can breathe, so of course they think it is terrible." Scavenger says, "I gotta fix her up. She tried to paralyze Megatron. Isn't that funny?" Counterpunch says, "Inquisitra is, for the moment... indisposed." Scavenger says, "I need a broom." Megatron says, "Very good, Catechism, then you'll save energon walking there." D-56 Ramjet says, "Yeah, real hilarious." Ramjet looks surly! Megatron comes in with Shockwave and Counterpunch, a menacing trio if ever there was. Well, maybe not Counterpunch. "What horrible treatments are we talking about here, exactly?" Americon gives Ramjet an odd look. "But we do that all the time to humans! Does that mean we're all like, overcompensating or something? Anyway..." Looking back to Catechism, he says, "Wait, I am not sure what breathing has to do with it. I am not following your logic, here! Oh, crap, Megatron... uh..." He stiffens, salutes, and offers this explanation to the Decepticon Lord. "I subjected him to the most nightmarish torture of all, my Lord... WATERBOARDING!" He gestures at a bench, and near that bench is a puddle of water and over a dozen discarded canteens. Shockwave walks in with Megatron and surveys the situation. "Catechism, what were you able to learn so far?" He turns to Ramjet before Catechism can awnser and gives the seeker a small approbatory nod before turning his attention back to the interrogator. "Indeed, Americon?" asks Megatron, the very picture of skepticism. "And what did you learn thereby?" Mesa sits on the floor with the holes in his chest still smoking but not looking too shabby. Upon seeing Megatron and crew enter, he manages to get up and do a proper Decepticon salute. As the fist meets his chest a couple of tiny chunks of armor fall away and smoke scatters for a bit. Mesa does not say anything as he goes to the at ease position. Not menacing? Apparently Megatron hasn't heard about all those sentries Counterpunch had to deal with whenever they thought they could crack jokes about the 'Stunticon wanna-be'. He walks in, a respectful distance behind Megatron and Shockwave both. But as he enters the Dungeon, he looks around, examining the area momentarily before stepping up to listen intently to Catechism's report. As he does so, his optic band flickers as he sees Mesa's current condition, and then returns his attention to Catechism. Ever the career-junkie, Ramjet stands at attention for the arrival of Megatron and Shockwave. Sliding his hand to his shoulder, he acknowledges them both. "Lord Megatron. Commander Shockwave." He doesn't spare Counterpunch anything, since he doesn't think much of him anyway. Having saluted, Ramjet takes a step back for Megatron and Shockwave to appraise the situation.. and resumes looking surly. How surly. Catechism makes salutes so proper that they could come out of a regulation handbook. Explaining breathing to Americon must wait for later. Her expression turns dark, as she explains, "Sirs, Soundwave told me not to speak of what I learned to anyone. However, both of you override such orders, I trust?" She does not wait for confirmation. "Mesa was mostly compliant, but he refuses to give out the names of his allies. He admits that he rigged the energon silos to transport their energon elsewhere. He claims no involvement in Baffles's death or in the explosion of the shuttles. Finally, he says that we can recover some of the missing energon. Sirs. That's the overview." "I'll want to know how as well as where," replies Megatron to the Coneheads, turning to face Mesa. "Well, that's some good work. Right under Shockwave's complete lack of a nose. That's more than I expected of you, quite frankly. Keeping in mind that with a few noteable exceptions, your career has been based around keeping your head down, this is quite the stepping-out for you, Mesa. Galvatron must've been more persuasive with you than he was the other night." Americon shakes his head sadly. "Unfortunately, the torture was so effective that I broke his mind completely, and he offered nothing coherent but an odd selection of inappropriate songs! I have failed you..." He throws himself to the floor, prostrating. "Forgive me!" Megatron gestures impatiently for Americon to get up with one hand. Americon stands up rather quickly. "We already know who several of his compatriots are, at present." Counterpunch's gaze flickers over towards Mesa again. "It will be only a matter of time before they are rounded up, and more names come out." He pauses, looking towards Megatron and Shockwave questioningly. "Perhaps... I might speak with him a moment?" "Amazing what an angry disposition, a bloodthirsty XO, and a fusion cannon can do to motivate a soldier... Sir." Mesa says dryly. Mesa continues to stand perfectly at ease in his cell. Catechism continues, "Mesa claims to believe that Galvatron is the true leader and expressed worry that you, Lord Megatron, would be ill for the cause." She snorts, as if to say what she thinks of that. Her voice lowers, and she adds, "There is another, related matter of which I would like to speak, but I would prefer to be out of mixed company." Particularly away from that tape. "Not quite yet, Counterpunch," says Megatron, raising the open hand to him to give him a moment's pause. "Mesa, I want to put a question to you: would you say that you serve Megatron, Galvatron, call me what you will, or do you serve the leader of the Decepticons? I trust that you understand the distinction." Mesa puffs out his chest for all it's worth. A few charred flakes from Ramjet's abuse fall away. "I serve no leader. I serve the Empire and I always will... Sir." Mesa says proudly. Mesa does seem to flinch in a tiny amount of pain but stands firm. By standing on the sidelines, Ramjet can observe Megatron's interaction with Mesa. Like it or not, as his energo-pump beats with irregular anxiety, he starts to wonder if something is amiss. Folding his arms over his chest, Ramjet continues to watch from under his mask of typical surly demeanor. Sometimes, being recognised as a grumpy jerk makes for a great way of hiding one's feelings. Counterpunch hmms for a moment. "Just the question I had intended to ask," he replied to Megatron after a moment. "I withdraw my request." This little conundrum is getting more and more interesting by the moment. "Well, for now at least, I still possess the position of the Commander in Chief of the Decepticon Empire," replies Megatron. "So far as we are aware, apart from a few malcontents, Galvatron only controls the allegiance of the Unicronians; Cyclonus and the Sweeps. I control all the rest. Galvatron had his chance to make a persuasive argument for leadership the other night, and the Empire rejected him. I trust this will mean no further... disruption. I need loyal soldiers in this difficult time." Americon stands there, wondering when Soundwave will weigh in on the whole matter. Despite the fact that he has hitched up with Megatron for now, all it would take is a word from Soundwave to get him on Galvatron's side. Shockwave has disconnected. Mesa looks at Megatron. His mono-optic focuses intently on Megatron's face. "Convince me that you are who you say you are then I will bend over backwards as I have done for every other leader, right now I don't have any other reason to believe you are not a threat to the Empire save for last nights battle. When my XO hands me orders I follow them, I do not question them. If you are who you say you are, then you will realize this fact. I was told you are a threat to the Empire and reacted accordingly. I say again, PROVE it to me." Mesa demands.. though someone in his position shouldn't be making demands, though he does have the bargining chips in his favor though. Megatron drums his fingers on his hips. "What would convince you?" Ramjet raises a brow at Megatron's response. Mesa states flatly "Information that only Galvatron would know about me." "The majority, from the small surveyed sample I have--" Counterpunch shoots Ramjet a quick look "--appear to believe that the best way to settle this is for single combat. You versus Galvatron, no holds barred. Let the winner claim leadership of the Empire." A brief pause. "However, I believe things are more complicated than they appear on the surface. For something like this... more data is necessary. The more I uncover, the more questions I find." Megatron coughs. "I'm relieved that it's something simple. If it had been an obnoxious demand I would've had to just throw you back in the cell. Very well, I have three words and one place name for you: 'Order of Excelsius' and 'Magnaron.'" Catechism perks up at what Megatron mentions about Mesa - nonsense and a place name, to her - and she watches Mesa closely for any sign of a reaction. If she asked Megatron the same question, what answer would she receive? Ramjet nearly loses his cool. Counterpunch's advice makes him nearly snort. "The rule of the strongest is our way, Counterpunch! Ever since the first Decepticon rolled off the assembly line and bowed to Straxus. What would you have us do? Skulk around, prattle and.. hnnh.. 'reason' together?' Mesa mono-optic flickers. He then does the unexpected. He salutes Megatron! More pieces of ash and armor flecks fall from his chest as he does so. There seems to be a haze in his cell area from the smoke. "I.. I am sorry for my actions Lord Megatron. Cyclonus.. he beli..." Mesa cuts short his statement as he is finding it difficult to find the words. Only Galvatron would truly know about these important items to Mesa. Only him. Mesa then goes back to the at ease position. "I will accept death at your hands for my betrayal. It is fitting for what I have done." Mesa says finally. "No need. I only punish the disloyal. You could not have known. Besides, it looks like someone has already made a fairly good attempt," replies Megatron, pointing at the holes burnt into Mesa's chest. "Is that Catechism's work?" Ramjet smirks. "No Sir." Mesa speaks up. "I tried to escape and Ramjet stopped me." Mesa lies. But its not an obvious lie. Ramjet goes from smirking to looking stern! He stares at Mesa as he polishes off the last syllable of his cover. Catechism suggests, her tone sharp, "You would serve your Lord much better if you instead came square with him - entirely square." She still wants to go talk to Blueshift and ask him about what happened to him when he was Bob Shift, but Mesa - the traitor - coming clean is a good sign. Or he's a double-agent, waiting for a chance to betray them again. Trust is something she does not posses at the moment. She looks to Megatron and says, "No, sir. I did not use any... destructive techniques for this interrogation." Her acid stayed inside her frame, her spikes sheathed. Then, she squints at Mesa uncertainly. It's an obvious lie to one who was here! Megatron glances at the smirking conehead. "Mmhm. Well, barring anything shocking uncovered by Counterpunch, you're free to go. Counterpunch, you may interrogate the prisoner. Catechism, you wanted a word in private... walk with me." Megatron adds as he heads for the door of the dungeon, "And I'm going to want that energon back. Presumably you can use the same methods in the opposite direction to siphon away Galvatron's reserves." "Sir. That will be a problem. They need to be kept hidden as I am sure Cyclonus will use them as a military target." Mesa states sharply. "But I will relay to you the coordinates when time is appropriate." Mesa finishes. Counterpunch's gaze swivels towards Ramjet. "I want the questions answered, Ramjet," he replies, his voice dangerously low. "And, despite some idiots on Cybertron preaching to the contrary, I can't always get my answers from the dead." A brief pause. "Then again, neither can they. But at least my work is done with some sort of research and backing, not made up hocus-pocus like their tripe. Plus, I have not argued the fact that such a duel is necessary to preserve the Decepticon way. I simply want all of the facts." He gazes at Mesa for a moment, then shakes his head. "You already asked the question I had intended to ask him," he replies to Megatron. "For now, I will compile the data I already have at present, and see what facts we truly have concerning everything." Catechism bows formally and enthuses, "Thank you, Lord Megatron. I pray that will not waste your time." He may already know what she knows, but she can trust no one - certainly not this Megatron, but for now, he has her loyalty. She follows him. Ramjet makes a face. "I need a drink..." He mutters to no one in particular after Megatron leaves with Catechism. Americon scratches his nose as his mind wanders. Mesa mutters hesitantly, "Um.. am I free?" Megatron passes out the heavy doors of the NCC Dungeon to Mount R'lyeh to the southeast. Megatron has left. The heavy doors creak open as you pass out of the NCC Dungeon to Mount R'lyeh to the southeast. Mount R'lyeh Mount R'Lyeh still stands tall as it overlooks the Decepticon fortress known as New Crystal City, which appears to be a sun-bleached, ocean-washed fish corpse curled around the mountain, all bone and bare structure, cobwebbed over by spiders. The mountain has changed drastically from the way nature once made it. Now, a huge metal monstrosity looms upward, as the entire area has been cyberformed. Ripples of uneven metal snake their way up the mountain, and giant ports lead deep into the earth to allow pressure to be released as nature dictates or to be harnessed as the Decepticons see fit. The gaping maw at the summit of the inactive volcano, larger than the jaws of the city-shark, is still present, and were one to look in they might be able to catch a glimpse of rock and earth. You would have to look closely, however. All of the converters that draw power from the lava flows are underground. Overall, this particular site serves no purpose in New Crystal City aside from an impressive landmark. Contents: Megatron New Crystal City Obvious exits: Northwest leads to NCC Dungeon. South leads to NCC Spaceport. Southeast leads to South Pacific - Indonesia/Australian Coast. Southwest leads to NCC Spinal Pathway. West leads to NCC Medical Ward. Fly D-56 Ramjet says, "Hnnh. What a day." Megatron strides the length of the city, hands clasped behind his back as he looks up at the damage. "Speak to me, Catechism." Scavenger says, "Still need help in the dungeon? Please say yes!" D-56 Ramjet says, "Talk to the Lieutenant." Scavenger says, "Lieutenant?!" Counterpunch says, "I believe Mesa will require repairs. As to whether he is released or not... that would be Megatron's decision." Swindle says, "Go into the dungeons? Yeah...uh, I'm gonna have to give you a big ol' fashioned 'No' there Scavvy, buddy..." Scavenger says, "On my way. On my way now." Scavenger enters via a set of doors from the NCC Medical Ward to the west. Scavenger has arrived. Scavenger heads towards the Dungeon, toolbox in hand. "Gotta go see what else is broken in this base..." Megatron says, "Mesa is free to move about the confines of the city. Consider it house arrest." Catechism looks all around nervously, as if worried about prying optics and listening audios. As if to confirm her fears, Scavenger appears, and she looks to Megatron, her face stricken. To Scavenger, she suggests, "Try the spaceport. It suffered heavy explosions." Scavenger takes a long, deep unnecessary breath with no mouth even and sighs. "Gotta see to Mesa first. Is he staying in the brig or not... I . Im just here to fix things.." he shakes. So much going on and only one steam shovel to see to it all. Scavenger says, "I know Im not going to get it but I'll need a month's vacation after this.." "I imagine he will want to take some air," Megatron says to Scavenger, "but for the time being he is in the dungeon being questioned by Counterpunch." Scavenger winces. "Oh.. then.. should I wait or repair him while hes being interrogated. I hate being around interrogators. They're.. creepy." "I'm sure that's up to YOU, Scavenger," says Megatron, making an impatient gesture to Catechism. Catechism suddenly has an extremely blank expression on her face. Then, she smiles, ever so slightly, and she rocks forward on the tips of her feet, noting in a quiet voice like wind through holes in a canyon, "Scavenger... it is not my primary function, but *I* am an interrogator as a secondary skill. Please, be off. I have business with Lord Megatron." D-56 Ramjet says, "Swindle. Tell me you've got some of that high-performance good stuff stocked somewhere." Swindle says, "....ehhhhhhh...maybe..." D-56 Ramjet says, "Swiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiindle! Don't hold out on me!" Scavenger nods "Right!" with that he heads on down to the dungeon, on his way to who knows what. Scavenger enters the heavy, creaking doors to the northwest that lead to the NCC Dungeon. Scavenger has left. When she is satisfied enough of the privacy of the area - and she is not entirely satisfied, no - she withdraws a datastick and holds it out to Megatron. She explains, "I'll start at the start. There was a fire at the dock a few days ago. I came to help put it out - got there late, but I saw Mesa was there. I didn't think anything of it then. However, when Cyclonus blew up the shuttles at the spaceport, I noticed that Mesa went missing curiously, and I started to suspect him. That's why I sought him out in combat and why I captured him. I learned more from his interrogation than I said just prior, sir." She pauses. Swindle says, "Hey, I'm kinda in the middle of something Ramjet...you wanna tell me what you got that's worth my busy, busy time?" D-56 Ramjet says, "Don't make me buy it from that Sweep. They price-gouge like they can get away with it." Scavenger says, "ALlright, looks like Mesa's free. Im going to work on fixing the spaceport unless Im needed.." The Creepy One, Sunder snickers. Swindle says, "Hey, I ain't making you do anything. You wanna waste your time with that fuel-line clogging stuff, that's your own look out. But you want the best, you gotta be prepared to pay for it." D-56 Ramjet says, "Hnnngh." D-56 Ramjet says, "I got... pictures." D-56 Ramjet says, "Of the.. blue.. persuasion." Scavenger says, "Stop flirting!" Swindle says, "That's nice. I want to see blue, I can go outside in the day time and look up. What you got that's actually worth something, flyboy?" D-56 Ramjet says, "I'M USING BLUE AS A EUPHEMISM FOR RISQUE SWINDLE." D-56 Ramjet shouts! Onslaught says, "Swindle, have I not told you about not using official channels for these activities?" Mesa arrives from the NCC Spinal Pathway via a winding steel-cable webbed bridge to the southwest. Mesa has arrived. Scavenger says, "Yeah, get a room." Swindle says, "And I'm using worht something as a non-euphamism for WORTH SOMETHING Flyboy. Risque don't mean slag to me." Swindle says, "Ons, he started it! Totally not my fault!" Counterpunch enters via a set of doors from the NCC Medical Ward to the west. Counterpunch has arrived. Scavenger passes through the heavy doors from the NCC Dungeon to the northwest. Scavenger has arrived. Scavenger heads on out, to the spaceport to do his work or whatnot. Scavenger heads south down the mountain, towards the NCC Spaceport. Scavenger has left. D-56 Ramjet says, "Fine, fine! Nnnrgh!" D-56 Ramjet says, "I've got some extra.. surplus from the time we went down to Carbombya." A low audible rock tune can be heard as Mesa transforms into an AH-64D Apache Longbow, only to have it be drowned out by the roaring rotor blades. Mesa takes flight to the Sky above New Crystal City. Mesa has left. Scavenger says, "Oh my. That was rude of me wasn't it? Im sorry. Been doing everything around here and its been a long.. day. I dont want to listen to the sparklings share porno..." Swindle says, "HEY! You take that back!" Swindle says, "I don't *share* anything!" Counterpunch takes flight to the Sky above New Crystal City. Counterpunch has left. Scavenger says, "Im just going to sit down for five.. ... *Sounds of something similar to snoring*" Ramjet passes through the heavy doors from the NCC Dungeon to the northwest. Ramjet has arrived. Megatron takes the thumbstick and plugs it into his wrist to review the data. "I was aware of that much already..." Ramjet comes strolling out of the dungeon, looking faintly annoyed! He seems to be mostly wrapped up in a conversation he is having over his radio. Catechism claps both hands over her face and groans. Will the interruptions never cease? In a hushed voice, she explains, "Sir, it's the material at the end that may be of the most interest." That's an innocuous enough thing to say. Megatron has the distant expression that says he's watching an .mpeg internally. Catechism gave him a thumbdrive because it's plugged into his wrist. Megatron snaps out of it presently. "Intriguing. This... demands some consideration. Thank you, Catechism." Ramjet has disconnected. Scavenger says, "Fires.. at Crystal city easier to shoot civillians when they're on fire *transmissions go to murmurs.*" Once Ramjet passes out of the area, Catechism is again a bit at ease but not entirely. She explains, "Lord Megatron, I did delete the files, as he asked, but I copied them just prior. I don't know if he knows I did. I am pleased that I may be of service to you." She hesitates. "There is one other thing, unrelated." Megatron cocks his head attentively. Catechism laces her hands together. If she dies now, she has lived a life where she has wiped an Autobot city off the map by her own work, where she has been part of a super-warrior, where she has served her cause faithfully at every turn. Catechism can die easily. She looks up, meeting his gaze, and her voice does not waver as she explains, "Sir, I know that we are not allowed to speak of the Black Book of Primus - I didn't even know what it was until I saw it in space. Kill me, if that is what must be done, but Cyclonus read from a Grey Book of Primus, and sir, I'm a Seeker - we think in threes. I worry that there may be a White Book, and I worry what trouble it may cause the Empire." "I know it's a taboo, Catechism; like the Underbase or Planet Femax, yes. But I know when to set superstition aside. If there is indeed a 'White Book of Primus,' I want it," declares Megatron decisively. "Bend an ear to it and find it for me, if you can." Catechism is stunned, to put it mildly. Find the 'White Book of Primus', if it even exists? She's just a Seeker. She's not DCI or anything special, and yet... she cannot do less than her lord demands of her. She clicks her heels together and snaps off a salute. Catechism shoves her shock down and replies, "Yessir! You might want to assign someone a bit more qualified if I turn up any indication that such a thing actually exists, but I will do my best, sir!" "You may use up to four troops in your mission," Megatron adds, going over the roster in his head. "I would suggest among those you choose a heavy hitter, such as Blitzwing or Astrotrain... someone who can pilot a shuttlecraft, an intelligence unit that you know you can trust." Catechism's optics widen as he assigns her permission to take troops along for her quest. She has to strangle a laugh. Trust? She trusts no one. Catechism spent her last recharge cycle in a supplies closet, next to the mops, for fear of returning to her own bunk after what she saw and heard from Soundwave. Her voice is coloured with pride, excitment and anticipation, and she says, "Sir! Finding a trustworthy DCI unit will be difficult, but I have done work with Reflector before, so I will see as to his availability." If not, it may be Americon she brings. Oh Straxus. "I will think on the others - Blitzwing and Astrotrain would be quite useful, too." Megatron nods crisply. "Good. Keep me updated." He turns on his heel and walks off towards the command center without a further word, iron boots ringing on the pavement. Megatron has disconnected.